


Beauty's Touch

by Nyfain



Category: Dragon Age, Dragon Age II
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-08
Updated: 2017-08-04
Packaged: 2018-09-22 19:56:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 19,250
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9623147
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nyfain/pseuds/Nyfain
Summary: This story centers on a young woman, Lily Ó Duibhir, from the Free Marches who grows up in isolation and must adjust to life in the Circle during the Blight and later the Mage Uprising in Kirkwall. Orsino takes Lily under his wing and learns to trust in the love of those he has sworn to protect.





	1. The Scent of Rain

**Author's Note:**

> Hi all! This is my first fanfic, so I really hope you enjoy it. I proof read things religiously, but if you see an error, I would love for you to let me know so I can correct it! Constructive criticism and effusive praise are always welcome :) Please forgive me for any initial formatting errors. This story is rated M for later chapters, so get ready to feel the sweet burn of this SLOWMANCE. :)

Chapter 1 - The Scent of Rain

Lily could smell rain in the air. 

The day was deceptively bright and clear on her family’s small orchard estate, but by her estimation, there would be a downpour within a few hours. 

She dropped the last few apples in the basket below before swinging down from the tall tree with a practiced grace. Having climbed and leapt down from each tree in the orchard countless times before, Lily felt comfortable with the familiar heights. She often closed her eyes when descending. The wind in her face gave her the sensation of flight and she reveled in the feeling of absolute freedom, however brief.

“Lo there daughter!” her mother called as she emerged from the front door, wiping flour onto her apron. “Put that bushel over yonder for washing later. We will have guests before the storm hits.” She said pointing her chin in the direction of the steps below. Lily shifted the basket to her other hip, “More guests mother? I don’t think father will be particularly pleased to hear that.” 

“Aye, well ye best not tell him when he returns from market then.” she replied with a smile tugging at the corner of her lips.

Lily’s mother was of Chasind origin and since she had come into her magic 7 years ago, mysterious guests would appear as if summoned periodically much to her father’s dismay. Her father, Nate, was a great bear of a man with a head full of thick blonde hair and a thick beard to match. He was a Markham man through and though. From the way he told it, you’d think the orchard had been in his family since the Maker was a boy. He seemed utterly mismatched with his wife, Zala, who was darker with a willowy build as Chasind folk often were. 

Though their union was rooted in a deep love and mutual respect, Nate never felt completely at ease with his wife’s mystical ways. In fact, he made it his business to remain as purposefully ignorant of them as possible. Though he shrugged off his wife teaching their daughter to listen to earth, water and sky and Maker knows what other foolishness, he was distraught when Lily had found her magic and there had been a lingering resentment as a result which had caused a good deal of tension over the last few years. To make matters worse, his wife had opened their home to various “dodgy folk” that Nate only tolerated because he did not want to lose his most beloved and only daughter to the Circle. Demons be damned.

“I’m worried mother, what if he sets off for home and gets caught in the storm?” Lily smoothed out her dress as she set the apples by the door. The rain would give them a nice wash.

“Worry not, daughter mine, I told your father to stay in the market town tonight. It looks to be a beast of a tempest.” Zala said as her lips thinned while casting a stern look at the sunny sky. 

“I only sensed it just this morning.” Lily climbed to the step just below her mother’s and could not help keep the disappointment from her voice.

“Aye and so ye did. You’re much more attuned to sky than I was at your age. I always preferred listening to the earth’s song. Ye need not fret my Lily dear, everyone has different strengths and there is much potential within you.” Zala cupped her daughter cheek and cast a warm smile. “Let us make haste now. They draw near.”

********

Lily listened carefully as she prepared tea and cakes for her mother and their guests. 

An old woman with skin the color of coffee and a young man close to Lily’s age listened to Zala speak but kept their gaze trained on her. She was uneasy, albeit used to the scrutiny she received from the strangers that came calling. 

_“I agree that it was beauty that touched her. Though it rarely lingers. Took every bit of her color too.”_ Macha, the elder mumbled quietly, eyes never leaving Lily's face.

Zala spoke up, _“Aye, but linger is does and watches out for her too. I hear her speak to it sometimes, especially when her dreams are strong.”_

Lily looked at her mother and then glanced back to Macha and the young man, Euwan, she thought she heard him called before setting the tray on floor by the great fireplace they were sitting near. They must always be so cold in the marshes, the way they practically all sit within the fire. A few inches closer and she was sure the elder’s wispy hair would go up in flames.

Euwan, who was also studying her intently smiled and said, _“Grandmother, I believe she has our words. Ah! There! See how prettily she blushes.”_ Lily could feel the color rising in her cheeks. As much as she loved being out on the orchard with her family, it was a lonely life and she seldom came into contact with people her own age. Especially men her own age. Especially handsome men with green eyes and tanned skin and exotic features. Was he elf blooded? That would explain why his eyes were unusually pretty and -- 

_"Stop teasing her, fool boy, and be quiet. Perhaps you would like to get better acquainted with the storm roaring overhead? Mother knows your water tongue could use improvement.”_ Macha gently cuffed him on the back of the head. _“Don’t worry child, he always teases pretty young women. Come and sit with us.”_ Macha gestured to the empty space to her left. _“Can you speak at all, or only listen?”_

The Chasind language was split into multiple dialects and although she could understand what they were saying, she did not feel comfortable enough to attempt to speak it. Rather she relied on the old tongue which her mother had been diligent in teaching her since she was an infant and practiced when her father wasn't around. This tongue was often spoken by elders during hold meets in the Wilds. Still, Lily felt self-conscious as she spoke the guttural language that felt clumsy on her lips, _“I have the words of our ancestors, Great Mother, I would be honored to hear your counsel.”_

Zala looked at her daughter reassuringly as a small smile quirked at the corner of her lips. 

_“Ah, see that boy? See how well she speaks the old tongue?”_ The elder pointed a finger in her direction, “Mayhap if you spent more time listening to your grandmother instead of kissing girls by the barrows..” Macha had switched over to the common tongue. Euwan’s eyes danced with merriment, _“Aye mother, but it would be unkind to deprive the women of the kisses they surely deserve.”_

Macha rolled her eyes before turning back to Lily and speaking once more in her native dialect, _“I’ve heard your story from others, but I would like to hear it from your own lips.”_

Lily sighed before reciting the story that she had told countless times over to each new visitor that came calling. 

Zala drew in her breath slowly to hide a smile as she recognized her daughter’s barely suppressed annoyance. She had explained to her daughter that the Chasind were nothing if not thorough in their assessments and if there was an issue or question, they would review it again and again asking the same questions, sometimes worded ever so slightly differently to see if there was any information which might be teased out by looking at it from all possible angles. 

_“I was 15 when I went out to talk to the river one night.”_

All eyes were on Lily. 

_“The moon was full and the air held the scent of lavender and hay. I always talk to her when the moon is out, as she hears me best when it is full or close to full.”_ Macha nodded as if this was the most reasonable statement she had ever heard and asked what Lily usually spoke to the river about. 

_“We talk about the things she hears to the south from her brothers and sisters. What the animals tell her. She asks me about my dreams and sometimes. Sometimes she asks me to gather flowers and feed them to her.”_

Euwan smiled, _“Ha! Flowers! Your river is vain one! Did I not tell you she was vain, Grandmother? The brook near our holding only asks us to remove the excess scat from his banks on occasion.”_ Lily laughed as Macha scolded him to not interrupt. _“Go on child,”_ she motioned for Lily to continue. 

_“That night, she told me she had a friend that had wanted to meet me for a long time. She told me to lay down by her bank and listen to her pulse.”_

She went on to tell them how the river had lulled her into a dream state where she met a being of white light. The being was nebulous at first but then became more humanlike and masculine. Lily was unable to tell if she was dreaming or awake, but she had spoken to the spirit for what seemed like an eternity. He told her he watched dance under the stars as a child, and watched her as she gently tended to the plants and animals she had befriended over the years. He said that she had a great power inside and that he would guide her.

Macha nodded and even Euwan became more pensive as she continued, _“I felt like I had known him before somehow. I don’t know how. I trusted him implicitly. He kissed me on the forehead and I felt a deep love well up inside me.”_ Lily paused as she felt the strong emotion stir inside of her at the thought of the memory. She lowered her voice and thought about her words carefully, _”I’m not sure if it was a love I have for him or a love he feels for me, we felt connected somehow. I could not tell where he ended and I began. It's the way you love a creature just for act of existing in the first place….it’s hard to explain.”_ Lily stared thoughtfully at the contents of her teacup. 

Zala smiled warmly as she tucked a pale lock of hair behind her daughter’s ear. _“It’s not so hard to understand that love, my daughter.”_

Lily smiled at her mother, _“Yes, it does feel like that I think, something like that, at any rate.”_

Macha spoke, _“Did he ask you for anything?”_

The elders always asked this one question without fail.

Lily shook her head no. _“He never asked me for anything at all. When he kissed my forehead I felt it begin to tingle though.”_ She lifted her thick white bangs and touched her forehead where a small silver mark was. Macha looked at the mark closely and traced a thumb along the small crescent. _“What happened next?”_

Lily thought about it, _“I wanted to give him something that would make him happy…he told me how beautiful my red hair was, so I told him to take it. I told him to take my eyes too. I know I didn't have to, but I wanted him to have it.”_

Zala tilted her head to the side and sighed, _“Aye, and take it he did, as ye can see. She had hair the color of fire and eyes like molasses candy, but now she is colorless, except for a bit of blue in the eyes.”_

Macha nodded. _“I have heard that beauty is drawn to those with gentle hearts, but never takes. It was a kindness you did for him.”_

Lily nodded as she remembered her friend’s profound gratitude. _“He called it an anchor and said he would always watch over me no matter what, and that I would have to trust him when the time came.”_

_“And do you see him often?”_ Euwald piped up.

Lily nodded. _“Yes, although he has been sleeping more often lately. He tells me we will have to leave soon. He’s teaching me to heal too.”_

The elder nodded thoughtfully, _“Aye. I have heard as much from marshland and bog down south. The earth is in pain….it’s not as sharp here as back home, but I feel it still and I think we may all be on the move before too long.”_

Zala looked into the firelight thoughtfully and sighed. The room grew quiet for a moment before Euwan spoke up once more _“Shall I take Lily and teach her some of my tricks while you speak with Ki'Zala?”_ referring to her mother with the honorific given to witches who choose to live away from their holding. 

_“Aye, but mind which tricks you teach her. You’ve not see a woman who has been marked by beauty before, and I see the heat in your eyes.”_ This time it was Euwan’s turn to blush. 

“Aye then, let us be off?” He spoke in heavily accented common tongue as he took Lily’s hand in his own. 

“Mind me and learn my spell; it will serve you well.” 

As they reached the door to her room, he looked at her again before giving her an impish grin and reverting back to his native tongue, _“Heed me not, and you will owe me a kiss each error you make.”_

For the first time in her life, Lily was looking forward to making lots of mistakes.


	2. The Voice of the River

The morning sunshine cast a soft light upon Lily’s eyes waking her from a peaceful , dreamless sleep. 

Euwan and Lily had stayed up well into the small hours of the night and much to her disappointment and consternation, Euwan had been quite serious about teaching Lily a shape shifting spell that was his specialty. He had brought with him a small wren. 

“Perfect for slipping out of a fight” he had said with a grin. "More important than learning any combat spell, is learning to survive." 

If she needed a fast out, this would be it. Though she had not managed a successful transformation last night, Euwan had seemed pleased by her progress. She was able to speak to the animal, as one can speak to such a creature. Speaking to the wren was similar to speaking to the sparrows in spring, and much more familiar than a bird of prey.

Chirp! (Outside!) the wren hopped impatiently by the window sill. An image of the barn’s rafters and grains from the horse feed flashed across her mind briefly. Lily smiled and let the bird out. She knew that the animal would be back, but she did not know how she knew it. Her mother and the elders who had visited had called her gifted, but to Lily it was the most natural thing in the world. 

Every creature, every river, rock, and tree had its own language and it's own unique brand of sentience. She had much more in depth conversations with her river than with a pebble, for example. Not that she didn't try. She found that little rocks had little to tell; she felt vague impressions of the endless change of seasons over unimaginable spans of time. Once her mother had taken her for a visit in the Wilds and had stopped by the slopes of a ruined mountain and had camped there for the night. Lily was about 10 at the time and opened her mind to the mountain under her mother's guidance. She felt the deep, ageless consciousness of the mountain touch her mind. It was old and sleepy and had not spoken to anyone in a very long time. She felt the mountain's impression of her own fleeting existence before it faded away again. 

Once, against the explicit instructions of her mother, Lily had tried to touch the mind of Thedas itself. Her mind was quickly overwhelmed with an intelligence so vast that she had been stricken unconscious for over a week and was not herself for several weeks afterwards. That was the first time she remembered her mother and father fighting and the first time she had seen real fear in her mother's eyes. She would not try that again any time soon, but hoped that maybe one day she would be disciplined enough to make the attempt again without danger to herself. She had asked her mother to tell her of the dwarves in Orzammar as Chasind lore spoke of their deep connection to the planet.

Lily turned her mind to the rolling river by their orchard. She had been the first natural friend that Lily had made as a child and spoke to her with images, scents, and with the motion of her waves. Lily was so used to her mode of communication, that she could almost imagine her as a person. When her river wanted lavender or apple blossoms to perfume her waters, she would send lazy ripples towards Lily’s feet and an image of flowers on the banks would enter her mind. Frequently she saw the river arguing with passing storms (Lily had found that water elementals tended to be annoyed by strong winds, but enjoyed the gentle ones) and the normally gentle waters would roll and surge in anger. She wanted to visit her now if only to make sure that yesterday’s storm had not overly upset her. She would gather up extra wild flowers to place on her banks today. Other than a sense of friendship, Lily felt a deep affection from her watery companion and eagerness to enjoy each other's thoughts.

Lily completely lost her train of thought when she heard the heavy footfall of her father downstairs.

“Father!” she laughed as she bounded down the stairs and launched into his arms much the same way she did as a small child. Though she was in her 22nd summer, she retained some of her more childlike traits around him. 

“How was the market town father? Did you manage to unload all the produce and baked goods?” she smiled up at his handsome bearded face and gave him a kiss on his cheek.

“Aye love, I was able to unload it all thanks to my little layover.” He sent a pointed look to Zala who smiled as she kneaded the dough on the table. 

“Peace my love, I merely told you of the storm, I didn’t conjure it.” 

“Hmph.” Her father grunted as he sat down and begin to attack the meat pie on the table with fervor. “I’ve no doubt you could conjure something that beastly if you set your mind to it.” 

Zala didn’t reply, but her smile widened a hair as she continued work the dough with her hands.

“And as usual, I can see we’ve had more guests. How many this time? When did they leave?” 

Zala folded the crust on top of itself and began to roll it out. 

“Elder Macha was here with her grandson. From Zephyr holding.” She paused and looked at her husband with a smile, “Which is the holding my father was from before he joined my mother in...” 

“In Egret holding.” Nate finished and shoved another hearty bite into his mouth. 

Zala was grinning from ear to ear, “See my daughter, even your city bred father can be taught of the old ways.” 

Lily could hear her father utter “Maker’s breath…” as she made a face and said “Mother, I’ve lived in this backwater area (Hey!) my whole life and I wouldn’t call even Markham proper a “city”. Not in the loosest sense.” 

"I'll have you know, little miss," Nate punctuated with a fork pointed in her direction, "that you have the privilege of living close to one of the finest universities in all of Thedas."

Lily grinned and leaned over the counter far enough that her feet lifted off the floor. "Oh father, please do go on about the university again! I long to hear about the renowned agricultural sciences program for the hundredth time." She laughed as her mother swatted her behind, "Off the counter girl."

Nate quickly swallowed the last of his pie with a gulp of milk and got up from the table.

“I’m gone for one day and suddenly my daughter is putting on airs. This is your doing, wife.” Nate enveloped Zala in a huge hug from behind and she began to giggle as he obstructed her progress with kisses. 

Lily was all too used to her parents affectionate ways and took this as her cue to exit. Before she left , her father called out to her “Daughter, how would you like a brief moment of respite from this backwoods country next week?” 

She stopped in her tracks. “You mean it father?!” 

Zala turned around with a look of concern, “Husband, that might not be wise…” 

“You heard her, love” he kissed his wife, “Lily needs a little more culture in her life, and there’s no harm in going into the city as long as we’re careful.” 

Zala was still worried but her resolve was melting under the barrage of kisses her husband was gently planting on her lips. “I suppose…” 

“Good!” Nate boomed. “It’s settled. Lily comes with me next week. She needs to be among people.” He squeezed his wife tighter and looked lovingly into her eyes, “Not here talking to tree branches” (kiss) ”and eating live chickens” (kiss) ”or whatever in Andraste’s name you two do when I’m not at home.”

Lily chuckled and shook her head as she left the room. Only one night away and her father behaved like a man dying of thirst who chanced upon a cool mountain spring. She grinned as she realized that her mother might have had more than one motive in sending him away. They had never quite moved past the love struck, newlywed phase of their marriage. 

“My orchard isn’t really a backwater piece of land, is it my love?” she heard her father quietly ask her mother in a voice touched with the tiniest bit of hurt. 

“No my love, it’s the loveliest piece of land in all of the Free Marches.” 

She heard them kissing as she closed the door behind her as she slipped outside.

*****

The next week passed by in a blur. 

Lily had spoken to her river and received a first hand account of the obscene treatment she received at the hands of the raging storm. She had become calm once more after Lily spent the better part the day gathering two baskets full of lavender and tossing them one handful at a time in the rolling currents. _She loves these blossoms as a lady loves her perfume._ She smiled at the thought. 

Idly, she wondered what she must look like to a Free Marcher who saw a young woman tossing wildflowers into the river for no apparent reason. 

She had always felt self-conscious around “normal” Marchers like her father. Love her as he did, he always shook his head and muttered about her queer ways. She could be herself among the Wilder folk, who accepted the natural world in the way that she had. 

As for Free Marchers, she had learned to speak only of the most mundane topics with the people she had come into contact with. She went to the city much less often now, but used to travel with her father to sell the apples, pies and pastries every week. Nate felt it was important that his daughter socialize with others her age. One of her earliest memories was being laughed at and mocked by a group of her peers after she had told them about a funny conversation she had had with a sparrow just that morning. She was only 6 at the time, but had quickly developed a reputation for being a little _off_ among the children. Eventually it got so bad that they had started taunting her whenever she would approach them to play. 

When she was 8, her father had found her crying in an alleyway with blood running down her chin. An older boy had thrown a rock at her and hit her in the mouth. Nate was furious and had pressed Lily to tell him who had thrown the rock but she wouldn't. Telling him would have only made it worse, and besides the damage had already been done. The rock had hurt but the pain she felt was from the complete and utter rejection by the other children. From that day forward, she stayed with her father and helped him run the stall. 

If things had been bad before, they became exponentially worse after finding her magic and giving her gift to her spirit friend. It had left her hair the color of moonlight and her skin barely a shade darker. Her beautiful dark eyes were now pale blue. She thought the blue was pretty in a way but hated the rest. 

She felt her face heat up at the memory of embarrassment as every passing person, be they human or elf, rich or poor, young or old had openly stared at her. The worst part was not knowing what awful thoughts lay behind those gawking faces. No doubt they had thought her even more of a freak. She learned to keep her eyes trained to the ground and often flinched when she made eye contact with a stranger. Nate had explained away the drastic color change as result of a mysterious illness. He had told them that it wasn't catching, but that didn't stop people from avoiding her touch when paying for items. 

Though the Chasind witches had all agreed that she had been touched by a spirit of beauty, she did not feel that made her exactly beautiful. She had always thought herself rather plain with eyes that were a touch too wide apart and a mouth that seemed too full for her face. She had often wished that she looked like her mother. Zala was a true beauty in her eyes. She was more curvy than Lily, yet still graceful and light. She had smooth light brown skin with eyes that were the color of obsidian. Her mother's hair was a mass of dark tightly coiled curls that felt like softest cashmere. It was no wonder that her father had fallen for the alluring Chasind woman whom he caught dancing under the moonlight in his fields one night. Lily had once asked her parents about the details of their swift courtship, but they had only looked at each other and smiled. She had pressed, but Zala simply laughed while working on her embroidery and her father, red cheeked, had tersely replied that it was not a story for children. It was not hard to figure out what had happened, so she dropped it. 

Lily had been lost in thought when she felt the small wren land on her shoulder. 

Chirp! (Practice!) The image of haystacks and her horses flashed inside of her mind briefly.

She smiled at her little friend and bid her river farewell as she made her way towards the barn.

******

The day before her trip to the city, Lily had her first breakthrough with the shape shifting spell. After spending hour after hour observing and speaking with the wren, following him and watching him in the barn, watching him eat, drink, poop and sleep, she had finally been able to shift briefly before turning back into a human. It only lasted a few seconds but she was elated by her progress. She was eager to try again and longed feel the sensation of soaring through the air. She had felt a profound feeling of freedom from her wren as he flew through the sky and wanted that for herself. 

She felt unusually confident from the success of her progress as she studied herself in the mirror. She was trying on a new dress her father had bought for her while in town a few weeks prior. Lily smiled as she recalled the fondness in his expression when he said he bought it on account of it being the same color as her eyes. Looking at herself now, she thought she looked almost pretty. She wondered if any of the young men her age might look at her the way Euwan did and blushed at the thought. It had been almost 4 years since she had last been in the city with her father, and she was feeling restless and eager to break free of the confines of the orchard. 

Lily put on the matching slippers and softly made her way to her parent's room to show them the dress. She was about to knock when she heard her mother's voice, slightly muffled from the thick oak door. 

"Husband, I do not feel good about this trip." 

"Zala love, why are you so anxious lately? Did the pie you made this morning tell you it was a bad idea? I think it just doesn't want to be eaten!" Her father often made light of his wife's peculiarities. 

She hissed, "Do not make sport of me husband, this is serious! No, don't try to kiss me!" She heard the sharp sound of flesh smacking flesh. "Ow!" 

"I know you think us odd, but both Lily and I have been hearing many strange things. Elder Macha also told me of a sickness and pain that she feels keenly upon the land near the Wilds. We need to prepare to leave this place and soon!" 

Her father protested, "That is out of the question!" 

It made Lily feel quite nervous to hear her mother speak like this; she always seemed so controlled in front of her. She had seen the signs that things were off as well in the wind and rain, but had consciously avoided seeking out information. Her spirit friend had come to her in a dream one night a few months ago and had told her that she would have to prepare to leave soon. Though she was anxious to explore and see new places, it frightened her to think she would have to leave the one place she had ever known safety and comfort. She reached up under her thick bangs to touch the mark on her forehead absent mindedly and felt the familiar hum against her skin. The spirit was always with her but laid dormant more often than not. He appeared without rhyme or reason in her dreams and had taught her much of the magic she was able to use. 

"I beg of you not to do this thing, my love. The Chantry will catch her eventually if you bring her into the city." 

"And what would you have us do, Zala? Are we going to keep her locked up tight and away from normal people the rest of her life?" Lily could practically feel her mother bristle at that statement. "Is she to live in the Wilds with your people in a mud hut? No don't look at me like that, you KNOW that is not a life for her." 

Lily turned away and headed back to her room. She did not like where the conversation was going and she was beginning to feel anxious. She removed her dress while staring at nothing in particular; all the confidence that she had felt earlier in the day leeched out and replaced by a pervasive feeling of dread in her gut. Part of her wondered if it would be better to be caught by Templars once and for all and sent to a Circle. Was the thing itself actually as bad as fearing the thing? She was afraid to find out. A familiar sense of sadness and isolation settled over her as she blew out the candle laid down in bed. The moon was bright overhead and Lily whispered a prayer of thanks for her life, such as it was. She closed her eyes and as she listened to the wind blowing playfully through the grass, sleep finally took her.


	3. Little Pretender

Chapter 3 - Little Pretender

The rain pelted gently against the large, ornate window in the First Enchanter's office. 

It was a particularly cold, grey day and whispered a promise of the dreariness to come as the last days of summer waned.

Orsino enjoyed the peaceful stillness as he inhaled the aroma of the steaming cup of floral tea that one of the apprentices had brought to him. It was one of the few luxuries afforded to him by the Chantry.

 _This is nice. Some type of Jasmine, I believe,_ he thought absentmindedly as he settled into the heavy oak chair.

A thick stack of paperwork greeted him today, as it did every morning. It was one of the few constants he could rely upon since assuming the role of First Enchanter a little less than a year ago. 

His predecessor, Maceron, has passed away suddenly a year ago leaving the Circle mages reeling. Knight Commander Meredith had actually gone so far as to argue that there was no need for a new First Enchanter as she was responsible for the direct oversight of the mages. He distinctly remembered the overwhelming feelings of fear and dread experienced by his sisters and brothers in the days immediately afterwards. "What is to become of us now?" and "Who will protect us?" were the most common sentiments uttered among the mages. The collective anxiety of the Circle had reached an all-time high. Unable to stand idly by and watch his people cower in fear, he had reluctantly volunteered to accept the role. He did not want it because he coveted the promotion by any means, quite the contrary, he preferred to stay under the radar. Rather it was his desire to protect his family that overrode any reservations he would have normally had. There was simply no other choice. The enchanters and senior enchanters had unanimously and enthusiastically pooled their support behind him. 

The transition had been difficult, however, as he had not had to deal with the steely Knight Commander in person prior to accepting the new position. In fact, he took pains to avoid the unpleasant and taciturn woman at all costs while Maceron was alive. In the first few days he had already butted heads with Meredith who had not been accustomed to being challenged by a mage under her supervision, not even the First Enchanter. Maceron had largely been a figurehead of the Kirkwall Circle, but Orsino had absolutely no intention of letting Meredith steamroll his people and had vowed to fight her heavy handed tactics every step of the way. It had taken less than a week before they both realized that their relationship would be adversarial at best. 

In addition to the rocky Mage-Templar relationship, he did not have a mentor to directly oversee him as he assumed the duties of his predecessor. He had spent many late nights writing to the other circles for advice and guidance in his new role. They had been eager to help and for that he was eternally grateful. First Enchanters from the Circles in Ostwick, Kinloch Hold, Ansberg, Markham and Starkhaven had taken turns visiting Kirkwall to guide Orsino as he created curricula for new apprentices, oversaw their harrowings, settled disputes among his mages, and advocated for his people without actively provoking the Templars. 

There were far less pleasant duties that could only be learned from experience, however. In the past year, there had been 2 successful suicides, one mage who had disappeared mysteriously only to be returned in pieces by a group of Templars who had claimed blood magic, and a rape of a mage by a Templar. He recalled in white hot fury how the matter had been hushed up by the Chantry and how the Templar in question had been quietly reassigned to another Circle without any known punishment. The mage in question had not only not received justice but had been re-victimized by the heavy handed questioning by Templar Authorities. Orsino had written to Firsts in other circles about the matter appealing to them for advice and was rewarded by the arrival of a Seeker at his Circle one morning. He had never seen the Templars so agitated before and even Meredith looked sufficiently chastised by the week's end. He felt gratified for the small amount of oversight he was able to provide for his people. There had been no more sexual assaults, reported to him at least, since that time and although neither of them had spoken of the Seeker's visit, there was a new and palpable tension between himself and the Knight Commander as a result. He knew she greatly resented having someone of authority question her and knew that she would find a way to take it out of him, or worse, his mages. 

Still, he would endure. If he had only himself to worry about, he would have succumbed to despair many, many years ago. He had purpose however, and they could not take that from him. So long as he was First Enchanter, he was dedicated to improving the lives of the mages in his Circle. He didn’t want his people to just survive; Orsino wanted his circle to flourish. 

There had been small victories which made his heart soar. He was particularly proud of the fact that of the 3 apprentices who had undergone their harrowing, all had passed flawlessly and were performing more than adequately as enchanters despite having questionable success as apprentices during Maceron’s time. He had expanded the areas of magic study in his circle which had primarily been heavily rooted in Force and Elemental magic. Now they were making headway in the schools of Entropy and Spirit thanks to the mage transfer initiative he had created. A select few enchanters who showed promise were chosen to study in other circles for a time and eventually returned to teach what they had learned to the Kirkwall mages. Next year, Orsino planned on accepting mages from other Circles to train apprentices and enchanters who were interested in the more obscure schools of magic. He was especially eager to bring a mage in from Kinloch Hold who had a reputation as a fine spirit healer. 

Finally, he had bolstered the Circle’s coffers by devising clever, albeit mundane uses of Elemental magic which ran strongly in his mages. Heating houses of the rich in winter and keeping them cool in the summer among other things. It was a laughable use of magic, but it brought better meals, clothing, and equipment for his family and he was not so proud as to turn down a chance to better the lives of his people. He had been rewarded by a steady increase in morale.

Still, the year had been a difficult one and lips that had been so quick to smile were now down turned more often than not. He had noticed that his once jet black hair was quickly being replaced with silver which starkly contrasted with his still smooth elven features. The fact that magic use tended to delay the aging process in both humans and elves ever so slightly, coupled with his race’s propensity to age gracefully left him looking far younger than his 42 years of age. He wondered if the stress of his position would render that small advantage null and void as well. Vanity; however, had never been of great concern to him.

He set down his still steaming cup of tea and began processing the stack of paper work at his desk.

There were the usual bills of lading for imported herbs and magical artifacts. There were requisitions for magical enchantments and invoices for magical services rendered to be settled. Orsino smiled at the next item in the pile. It was a note from one of his Senior enchanters, a man by the name of Enrick who oversaw a portion of the children’s activities. 

“First, I thought you would enjoy this. Cheers. -E” 

Enclosed was a child’s crude drawing. Written at the top of the page were the instructions to “Draw your wish come true”. 

This particular drawing, expertly executed by a 7 year old apprentice by the name of Lita, depicted a monstrous Knight Commander Meredith complete with a forked tongue and snakes for hair being engulfed in flames by the apprentice children with the remaining stick figure mages cheering them on from the sidelines. 

“Our Lita clearly has a gift for art.” Orsino mused, lips quirking into an easy smile.

_I think I'll see about getting this framed._

Orsino’s smile vanished when his eyes landed on the next missive.

A thick sheet of vellum bearing the Chantry seal along with the Markham coat of arms only had one meaning: An apostate had been found and would be sent to him. 

New additions to the Circle were always stressful, but apostates decidedly so. Unlike children who newly came into their magic, apostates ran a much higher risk of being possessed or were too wild to subdue. Most of the circle mages were brought in by the Templars at a young age as their magic manifested. Apostates generally tended to be older children and almost always had difficulty assimilating into the Circle’s way of life. 

Orsino did not like the unknown.

He broke the seal and set about reading the missive with a furrowed brow. 

He recognized the Templar’s name from the capital city of Markham, a Ser Mahon, who had always dealt fairly with his people in the past. He quickly scanned the contents of the letter:

_To the honorable First Enchanter Orsino,_

_I hope this letter finds you well and in good health._

_We have apprehended a female apostate in Markham city proper yesterday by the name of ‘Lily Ó Duibhir’. Our Templars witnessed her using magic at approximately 9:30 in the morning while attempting to heal a young man that had been injured. Sers Delahan and Trimbley immediately blocked her and placed her in detention. The woman appears to be human and claims to be 22 years of age. She has most likely been kept concealed by her father, a well-known and respected local farmer by the name of Nate Ó Duibhir. Her mother is reported to be Chasind. The woman maintained that she kept her magic hidden from her family; however, an investigation of the situation is pending. Inspection by both those in our order and our local Circle was not able to produce any evidence of possession. She did not attempt to harm our Templars upon capture. She has been compliant with our requests and has agreed to submit to the protection of a Circle. Knight Commander Walsh has formally put in a request for transfer to your Circle and we expect to receive a response from Grand Cleric Elthina shortly. We have collected her phylacteries and will keep one in our possession whilst sending the other to Knight Commander Meredith for safe keeping._

_Please expect delivery of our charge within the week. Recommendations are for a swift Harrowing._

_May the light of the Maker Guide and Protect You,_

_Ser Dais Mahon_

_Knight Lieutenant of Markham City Chantry_  
_Servant and Protector of the Most Holy Divine Beatrix III_

Orsino was troubled by the letter. He did not miss the subtle implication that the woman “appeared” to be human and wondered what the Templar had meant by it. He knew Meredith would also be receiving a copy of this letter and imagined she would be apoplectic at the situation.

And Maker’s mercy, she was 22 years old. She would go on record as one of the oldest, if not the oldest apprentice that the Kirkwall Circle had ever accepted. Most apprentices underwent their harrowing in their late teens , and early twenties at the very latest, after many years of rigorous study. If her mother was indeed a Chasind Wilder, that might explain how she had survived and avoided possession; however, he would need to put her to the harrowing very swiftly indeed. Generally apostates did not last long on their own; either by seeking out demonic influence or unknowingly submitting to it. They usually ended up dead soon enough, but in some cases, they had wound up taking innocents with them. If a family was indeed knowingly concealing an apostate, the penalty was severe. It was an unpleasant situation all around. He would do his best to ensure the woman’s safety but quietly worried about the effect bringing in such a risky outsider would have on his Circle by and large. He wouldn’t put it past the Knight Commander to insist upon on a harrowing as soon as the apostate step foot inside the Gallows.

Another thing that bothered him was this newly adopted practice of obtaining 2 phylacteries instead of the one, not to mention that it was obtained prior to admittance into the Circle. Traditionally, the phylactery was obtained when one was admitted into the Circle and the blood was drawn by the First Enchanter instead of a Templar. The implication was one of trust and protection, but now it reeked of coercion. He could see the practicality of the measure, given recent attempts at escape by circle mages in Kinloch Hold and Jainen. In both instance, mages had sought out and destroyed their phylacteries that had been kept under lock and key by both the first enchanters and knight commanders. Practicality aside however, it was yet another instance in which Templars had overtaken responsibilities that were previously delegated to his people. He could feel the ever present noose tightening around his neck.

He sighed and leaned into his hands and rubbed his eyes before leaning back again and looking out the window. The rain was coming down harder now and the day was darkening.

A loud shout and the sounds of scuffling outside startled him from his thoughts. He sighed, stood up and smoothed his robes before collecting his staff to investigate. If there was trouble, it usually came to him eventually. As was his way, he elected to meet it head on.

Heavy steps and the sound of clanking metal preceded a group of 4 Templars who surrounded a filthy, rain soaked elven boy that looked to be about 11 or 12. The boy was offering up every bit of resistance his tiny frame would allow. “Let me go, shemlen scum! Or I will call on Mythal to strike you down where you stand!” he cried out in protest as he was forcefully led down the hall.

This prompted muffled laughter from the Templars who seemed more amused by the boy’s vain attempts to fight than anything else. There was a Templar holding him by each arm with one flanking the group and another at the head.

The boy’s eyes widened as he spotted Orsino walking towards them. He stopped struggling for a full five seconds before extending his left leg and tripping one Templar. There was a sound of cursing as the Templar hit the ground. The little boy took advantage of the chaos to hurl his entire weight at the Templar on his right. Rather than knocking the man down, the elf rebounded off his solid frame and crashed to the floor. Laughter erupted from the group as one of the men said “ha! This little knife ear has some fire in him yet.” The epithet sent the boy raging once more which led to even more laughter.

Orsino stood with his hands clasped behind his back, jaw clenching in anger, “That is quite enough gentlemen.” He called out in a clear voice. “Young man, would you be kind enough to come forward so that I can have a look at you?”

The boy’s green eyes shot daggers as he spat, “Who are you supposed to be? A pet flat ear doing the bidding of these shemlen scum?”

Orsino exhaled slowly.

_Maker preserve me._

Having been a child of an alienage himself, he remembered encountering this type of defiance in elves periodically. Be they young or old they usually ended up dead very quickly when displaying this type of aggression. Even so much as cutting your eyes the wrong way to a human could result in an elf being run through with a sword without a second thought. The fact that he had made it to twelve years of age without being killed was a testament to either a level of sheer dumb luck directly bestowed by the Maker himself; or perhaps he had recently come into his idiocy. To make matters worse, he was incorporating what bits of knowledge he had picked up about the Dalish, as alienage elves often did, making this display all the more cringe worthy.

For all their pretending otherwise, elves often seemed eager enough to surpass humans in stupidity given the opportunity.

Orsino waved over to a passing mage by the name of Allen and whispered something to him. The man nodded quickly before trotting off. He turned his gaze back to the elven boy in front of him.

“Report?” he flicked his eyes to the leading Templar.

“Aye sir, we found this one in Lowtown trying to sneak food off a produce stand. A shop boy took off after him and the little one here sent a fireball in his general direction.” The young boy had locked eyes with Orsino what seemed to be a challenge. “The shop boy was unharmed, but there were damages to the stand, thank the Maker it was raining. Oh and he said to expect an invoice for repairs.” 

Orsino rolled his eyes and dryly replied, “Fantastic.” 

He looked at the boy again and addressed him.

“What is your name , young man?”

The boy threw his head back and puffed his little chest out.

“I am called Talassan. Tell these shems to let me go before I get _really_ angry.”

 _Talassan_ , he groaned inwardly, _And I am surely the Empress of Orlais._

“What is your _real_ name?” Orsino could feel his patience waning. 

Something about watching an elf make an utter fool of himself before the human Templars made him eager to wrap this up very quickly.

Hurried footsteps echoed in the hallway.

Orsino turned to the quickly approaching elven woman who looked at the boy and then to him in askance. “Thank you for coming so quickly Hallasa. It appears the Templars have apprehended one of your long lost ‘kinsman’.” Her dark green eyes fell on the elven boy who stood gawping at the tattooed woman. Her expression hardened before she addressed the boy sharply in Elvhen.

Orsino could only catch bits and pieces of what she was saying. She had asked him his name which only caused him to stare even harder. She asked his name again and then spat out a reprimand of some sort before turning to the First Enchanter. Hallasa replied in her distinctly accented common, “It seems my kinsman has lost all ability to comprehend the language of his people.” She addressed the boy again who had now lowered his head and was staring at the ground. “What is your name, little pretender?” He winced at the rebuke. 

“Soran.” he said in little more than a whisper.

“Welcome to your new home, Soran.” Orsino said gently, "Please follow Hallasa for the time being and we shall speak later."

All the fight had seemed to evaporate from the little boy and the Templar in front cut his wrist bindings.

Soran rubbed his tiny wrists and kept his eyes trained to the ground as he walked obediently towards the two mages.

The Templars gave a slight bow to Orsino who nodded politely in acknowledgement. They had not yet turned and walked 10 paces before Soran pivoted deftly on his heel and darted with a shockingly fast speed towards the Gallows entrance.

Orsino gracefully readied his staff and sent a small paralysis spell hurtling towards the elf. It landed expertly between his shoulder blades and Soran toppled to the ground. The Templars had burst out into laughter once more as they stepped over and around the frozen boy. One of them reached down to tousle the boy’s hair, and chuckled, “Plucky little knife ear.”

Orsino glanced at the time piece in the hall as he went to collect Soran. Maker’s breath…it was only 10:15 in the morning. The boy was light as a feather in his arms. “Hallasa, would you please see to him and get him cleaned up?” The red headed woman nodded tersely as she reached for Soran, “Aye, sir.”

“Please, see that he eats and have him brought to my office later today for an interview.” Hallasa shifted the boy’s weight so that he fit in her arms more comfortably. “As you wish, sir.” As she walked away, Orsino met the boy’s eyes one last time and saw that his little face was streaked with tears.

 _I believe a visit to the Hahren will be in order this week,_ he thought sadly, before returning to his office to resume the day’s remaining work.


	4. Your New Home

Chapter 4 - Your New Home

The next three days had brought with it high winds and fearsome rain. 

The tumultuous atmosphere mirrored Soran’s mood perfectly, with the boy alternating between fits of rage and bouts of depression.

Orsino had tried unsuccessfully on the first night to get the child to divulge the details of his background. 

Who were his parents? Did he have any siblings? How long had he been able to use magic?

The little boy had refused to meet Orsino’s eyes or answer his questions beyond one or two word grunts.

Once Hallasa had washed him as requested, it was apparent that the child had not been properly cared for in some time. His eyes were huge and hollowed. There were also bruises and cuts on his face and arms that had been hidden by the grime. Some of them looked old, others were fresh.

The First Enchanter was determined to unravel the details of the boy’s background. He understood that if Soran was going to survive, it was critical to quickly find every last scrap of information about his origin; anything that might give him a way to curb the child’s rebellious nature as soon as possible. Meredith had expressed no qualms in having the child rendered Tranquil if he was not brought under control immediately and although Orsino did not believe her capable of such cruelty to a child, he was not eager to test her.

He sent a letter that very night notifying Hahren Reeba of Soran’s whereabouts. He received a reply the following morning which expressed gratitude and relief that the child was safe.

Orsino had a standing invitation to visit her at any time as he often frequented the alienage on business.

He would make the trip once the weather finally let up.

Orsino was especially grateful to Hallasa who, despite expressing open irritation at being saddled with the boy for the next few days, did her job admirably. It was her duty to greet him in the morning, see him cleaned, fed at least three times a day, have him fit for robes, gradually introduce him to the apprentice children, and finally to oversee the collection of his phylactery with the First by the Templars before he was allowed to officially begin his studies. 

As a rule, the red headed Dalish woman preferred solitude. Especially from children, and most notably elven children who were prone to sneaking glances at her Vallaslin markings when they thought she wasn’t looking. She found the posturing of alienage elves unbearable and her difficult upbringing did not lend to coddling. 

On the day of his arrival, Soran had begged Hallasa to tell him more of the Dalish. They had sat down to eat when he confided in her of his plans to escape and find them. 

Unable to tolerate such nonsense, she slammed her hand down on the table in anger, “Stupid boy!” she spat, “My people would strike you down as quickly as any human!” 

Soran flinched as though he had been struck.

She was almost yelling as she continued, “Look at me!” She gestured to herself, “I was the _youngest_ hunter my clan had ever produced! ‘da’Andruil’ I was called. I was loved and cared for until the day I came into my magic. That day I was given a pack and told to leave with arrows pointed at my heart. My own mother and father shunned me!” 

Hallasa stared pointedly at the boy until he dropped his eyes in shame.

She continued in a hiss, “Do you _think_ they would accept an ignorant, flat eared, pretending whelp whose mind is _fat_ with magic? Put your fantasies aside once and for all and trouble me no more on this subject!” 

Soran dropped the matter and set about cleaning his plate with trembling hands. 

Her message, though pointed, was necessary for the child to hear, so Orsino let it be. 

Another troubling issue was the child’s abusive nature towards the human mages. 

“What are you looking at, ugly shemlen dog!” he spat at one of the passing apprentice children on the way to morning class. 

This earned a painful smack on the back of the head by Hallasa who was walking behind him. “Curb your tongue, stupid child, or I swear by Elgar'nan himself, I will make you regret it!” 

In the evening, after Orsino had finished teaching a class in advanced Elemental studies, he met up with Hallasa and Enrick for a progress report.

He asked how Soran had fared during his first day of supervised class participation.

This prompted hearty laughter from Enrick while Hallasa shook her head in disgust and looked away. 

According to the enchanters, Soran had refused to accept instructions from an ‘old dried up shemlen dog lord’ and had to be removed for attempting to incite a riot among the children. 

Orsino blinked in disbelief before pinching the bridge of his nose.

_Maker's breath..._

He could not have this child showing blatant disrespect to his elders and racial epithets were explicitly forbidden. What’s more, Soran’s use of ‘dog lord’ was particularly ridiculous considering the fact that Enrick was clearly from Starkhaven, not Ferelden. 

Enrick was still smiling when he said, “Ah Orsino, you should put yourself in his shoes. You can only call a man ‘shem’ so many times before it loses its punch. It’s got to be pretty stressful for the little blighter to have to conjure up new insults on such short notice. I will give him points for creativity though.” 

Enrick was ever the optimist. Orsino, however, was not amused in the slightest. 

He made his way to the tiny room occupied by Soran and found the child huddled up on his bed, with his knees to his chest and back against the cold stone wall. The room was small and sparsely furnished with a bed, table, lamp and small stand with wash basin. There was also a desk and chair by the small square window.

Orsino took the chair and sat down opposite the child. 

He leaned forward, elbows on his knees and fingers steepled. He looked at Soran thoughtfully for a moment before he began.

“I had a conversation with Enrick and Hallasa today.” 

Soran rested his chin on his knees and blinked at Orsino with large, moss colored eyes. 

He continued, “While you are here, I will ask you to not refer to the human mages by ‘shem’ ‘shemlen’ ‘dog lord’ or whatever else springs to mind.” 

He let that sink in for a bit. 

Soran finally made a face and spat out, “Those Templars called me ‘knife ear’ and you didn’t say anything to _them_!”

Orisino frowned as he leaned in slightly.

“Soran, I do not have authority over the Templars. And I can promise you that your hurt feelings caused by their casual racism will rank fairly low on the Knight Commander’s priority list.” 

He paused to choose his words carefully.

“Like it or not, you are here now, and as a new apprentice you will be expected to show respect to your fellow mage, be they elf _or_ human. _Especially_ to your elders.” 

Soran lowered head; his long, unkempt black hair hanging down in his face and obscuring his eyes. 

Orsino reached out to smooth the child’s hair back but Soran reacted violently, jerking away and booming out, “But I don’t even _want_ to be here!” 

A tear slid down his cheek, “Why won’t you just _let me go_?” he finished in whimper. His nostrils flared and he was breathing heavily. He lowered his head once more and hugged his knees tightly.

“Soran,” he began softly, “You are magically gifted. You will come to understand that you have no choice but to remain with us.” 

His eyes regarded the child with sympathy, “If there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that the moniker of ‘mage’ is far more reviled than that of ‘knife ear’. You will be shunned everywhere you go, with one exception.”

Orsino continued, “And these humans here? They are more your brothers and sisters than anyone back in the alienage will ever be.” 

Soran whipped his head up, eyes bulging as he made a choking sound. 

Orsino held up his hand, “It’s true. We all bear the stigma of magic. Every human, just like every elf here had a family and was taken away against their will. I know this seems improbable to you now, but you will come to see that whatever our racial or economic background was before prior to coming here, it means nothing now.”

Orsino leaned back and gestured, ” Take Enrick, for example. The man you derided as an ‘old dried up shemlen doglord’ just this morning. Did you know that he was from a noble line in Starkhaven?”

The little boy shook his head.

“He stood to inherit his family’s title and estate. Once he had found his magic so many years ago, he was packed up and shipped to our Circle without a second thought. Everything he had ever known, gone. Just like that. Since then he has worked tirelessly to ensure that all children, both elven and human, understand the fundamentals of magical control and you deliberately tried to sabotage that this morning.”

Soran hugged his knees even tighter, and turned his eyes towards the window.

Orsino pressed further, “And you’ve met Hallasa who came to us cold and starving from the forests in the south. You could not put two people together from more different backgrounds and yet, watch how they interact with each other and tell me there is not genuine respect and collaboration.” 

More gently, “We want you here Soran, and we want to see you succeed. I am asking you to please do your best to avoid antagonizing your new family. Do you think you could do this?” 

He was met by silence. 

That would have to do for now.

The First Enchanter rose and placed the chair back behind the desk, “I will leave you to your thoughts then. Dinner will be in the great hall at 6:00. We would love to have you join us, but should you prefer to eat alone, just go to the kitchen and let them know you’re hungry.” 

Orsino had given instructions to the kitchen staff to ensure the boy had liberal portions as often as he asked for them as he had clearly not been eating well when he was found. He also indulged the children with sweets on occasion and had requested that Soran be given sweet rolls or pastries when available. 

Such a luxury was rarely experienced by the poor children of the alienage and although it wouldn’t completely mend a broken heart, a full belly _could_ do wonders for the spirit.

When Orsino finally returned to his office, he found a small note waiting for him on his desk. It must have just arrived. The letter was addressed directly to him and written in a flowing hand that he recognized as First Enchanter Katrina’s from the Circle of Magi in Markham.

_More news on our apostate, I’m guessing._

Looking at Katrina’s elegant script, he idly mused how one could almost picture the person in question based solely on their pen strokes. Katrina’s bold, elegant hand easily matched her in appearance and bearing. She was several years older than himself, but straight to the point and quick as a whip. His own writing was sensible and nondescript. Meredith’s was severe and harsh with lettering so sharp it was a wonder she didn’t rip the parchment to shreds in the letter writing process. Orsino fancied it the writing of a serial killer.

He cracked the Markham Circle’s wax seal and opened the letter:

_Orsino_

Katrina had never been one for formalities.

_I met with your new apprentice and I wanted to let you know that you owe me a big THANK YOU for sending her your way.  
I pleaded with the order to keep her in my Circle, but you know the rules. _

Katrina was referring to the common practice of moving apprentices or apostates out of the area in which they were originally collected with the thought being that they would be less likely to attempt an escape in unfamiliar territory. The one exception was Ferelden on account of it being so large and the circles of Kinloch Hold and Jainen being sufficiently removed from the general populace. 

The letter continued:

 _I sensed enormous potential in the woman and although she wasn’t able to summon the smallest bit of flame, her aptitude for healing was_ remarkable. _If the Chasind are this talented, perhaps we would do well to recruit in the Wilds._

_At any rate, I think you might want to use a gentle touch with her. She was understandably upset given the situation, but seems very sweet tempered otherwise. You might make a decent enchanter out of her yet.  
If this all works out, please see that you forward a case of my very favorite bourbon directly to my study. You remember the name, yes? I’m not joking. Knight Commander Walsh was planning on shipping her straight to Kinloch Hold, but I was able to persuade him otherwise._

_They already have two spirit healers, why should they have another?_

_Did you ever notice that Irving_ always _brings up Tolfir or Wynne’s latest breakthough every time we meet?_

_Every.Single.Time._

_So insufferable. Let this stick in his craw for a while._

Orsino grinned as felt the sense of smugness radiating from the letter.

_By the way, we really enjoyed having Finn with us. His research on Force magic was well received and I think we are on the verge of making a breakthrough here! The older enchanters and I also enjoyed the afterhours time with him. Please give him my regards and let him know he is welcome in our Circle any time._

_Katrina_

Orsino chuckled at the last bit. 

Finn was one of the first mages whom he had selected for the transfer initiative. 

He was an elf blooded son of a prostitute who had spent his formative years in a brothel before coming into his magic. His brilliance in the school of Force magic was second only to his depravity of mind.

He did tell good jokes though. 

And his stories were positively filthy. He was certain they had to be fiction, unless the man had found a spell of teleportation directly into The Blooming Rose. He could think of a few mages and even some Templars that would kill for such magic. 

The enchanters got a kick out of his tales though and he would be a liar if he said he hadn’t sat in on his fair share. 

The children were not permitted anywhere near the library after 10PM precisely because Finn had chosen that particular location to regale his audience with his latest tales of debauchery. 

It was a common sighting; Finn standing up and gesturing wildly, often rudely by candlelight, surrounded by men and women of all ages and races with rapt expressions. Even though the Templars were not technically supposed to fraternize with the mages, he had noted with wry amusement that they always managed to position themselves more closely within ear shot when he got going. 

It was common to hear bursts of raucous laughter spilling out into the hallway late at night.

Orsino shook his head to clear the thought from his mind.

He quickly wrapped up his administrative work and made the way to his chambers. 

On his way, his thoughts turned once again to the apostate. He found himself anticipating her arrival with equal parts apprehension and excitement. She was due any day now. He tried to keep a handle on his building excitement. 

She would need to be confirmed as not possessed, would have to undergo a great deal of training in a small amount of time, she would have to undergo a successful harrowing, and would have to grow accustomed to life in the Gallows, but _if_ she somehow was able to survive, it would be a life changing opportunity to have an actual spirit healer in the Circle. 

They were rare and highly coveted. 

Most mages simply did not have the aptitude for healing. It required an innate level of sensitivity and finesse absent in most. Talented as he was in Elemental magic, Orsino couldn’t heal anything more serious than a paper cut. 

With a healer in the Circle, there would be an opportunity for her to teach the others, and perhaps himself, what she had learned. Not to mention that he could earn an obscene amount of coin for the Circle by sending her to heal wealthy customers. 

He felt a pang of guilt and chastised himself sternly for dreaming up ways to use a woman he had never met who had experienced such recent trauma. 

He made a vain attempt to convince himself that he was merely being practical, but that rang painfully hollow. He winced as he was unable to stop himself from continuing further down this line of thought.

Having a healer in the Circle could provide a huge advantage by making them indispensable to public at large. Cure a wealthy noble of a lingering illness, ensure successful deliveries, and even discretely healing wealthy patrons of the Blooming Rose from some of the more unsavory, ah, _souvenirs_ they tended to pick up could do more to cement positive public opinion of mages in general than all the heating, cooling, and pest exterminations combined.

There was also a certain amount of prestige that having a healer provided to a Circle as Katrina had indicated. 

He cared nothing for status among his colleagues and found the way some of the senior and even some First enchanters seemed obsessed with jockeying for power to be ridiculous. He had no time for such nonsense if his people did not stand to directly benefit from it. 

Still, Orsino found it sadly ironic that in attempting to do the best for his people as a whole, he would be willing to use them so on an individual basis. He hated that part of himself as it ran contrary to his nature, but he didn’t have the luxury of being a mage only accountable to himself anymore. 

_Enough._

He opened the heavy door to his chambers which were quite large and richly furnished when compared to the other mages. And for the first time in his life he finally had some godsbedamned privacy; even his own bath. 

The rest of the mages had constant supervision which extended to the communal baths. He had given up illusions of modesty long ago as most of the mages did, but even so, it was unnerving to be constantly watched by the Templars; especially when one was at their most vulnerable. 

Thankfully, the women’s bath was only ever supervised by female Templars; he had made sure of that when he accepted his new role.

Meredith considered the idea frivolous and had complained that it was a ridiculous waste of Templar resourcing to insist upon something so insignificant. 

Orsino wondered if she would feel the same way if she had been forced to bathe in a room full of strange men. Then again, this was Meredith we were talking about. She probably bathed fully armored as it was. 

He made a face at the thought of Meredith in a bath.

He pulled his robe over his head and stripped down to his smalls. 

He opened the finely carved wooden armoire and pulled out a dark green tunic and a pair of tan trousers.

Orsino usually dressed down for dinner after official “work” hours were considered over. 

He set about heating the cool water which ran from the tap and glanced casually at himself in the mirror as he loosened the tie at his waist. He was getting a bit thin. He was well muscled and his shoulders were a touch broader than the average elf’s, however, he was also markedly taller, which made it all the more apparent if he had skipped a meal or two. 

He had a tendency to neglect meals when he was stressed and made up his mind to have an extra helping or two tonight.

Orsino did his best to lead by example on all fronts and encouraged the mages to remain physically active. He was a strict believer in the need for people to be healthy and strong in addition to maintaining their studies and could often be found in the garden or courtyard running laps and doing push ups in the predawn hours. 

Many of the mages had opted to join him, even little Lita had met him on occasion and had squealed in delight when he appeared in complete awe as she flexed her tiny bicep. 

He smiled warmly at the memory. 

Orsino cared for everyone in his Circle but was most fond of the children and made it his mission to ensure that they had the most normal childhood possible given the circumstances. Maybe it was because his own had been so bleak; he found it very gratifying to make them smile. 

Later at dinner, he made note of Soran’s absence and stopped by the larder on the way to the boy’s room afterwards. 

He loaded a small plate with cookies prepared by the kitchen staff earlier in the day and filled a mug with cold, creamy milk. 

He knocked gently at boy’s door. When there was no reply, he opened it softly and peeked inside. 

There was a tray of empty dishes on the bedside table which Orisino eyed approvingly. 

Soran must have licked them clean; there wasn’t a speck of food in sight. There was a large mug with a small amount of milk at the bottom.

The boy was curled up in a ball with his thick blanket dangling off the bed onto the floor.

Orsino set the food on his small table and looked down at the child. 

Asleep, Soran looked like a completely different person with all the anger and sadness erased from his features. He felt a pang in his heart as he looked down on scrawny, bruised elf with a bulging belly. 

Although it was not uncommon to see elves brought in from the alienage who were thin and malnourished, Soran appeared to have been especially neglected. 

He whispered a small prayer to the Maker. 

_Please give this child a chance to survive, maybe even be happy one day._

Orsino picked up the blanket and laid it over the elf, who immediately snuggled deeply into it. 

“Sleep well, little one.” Orsino whispered as he tucked a stray lock of hair behind the boy’s ear.

He extinguished the small lamp and picked up the used dishes before exiting the room.


	5. To the Gallows

Chapter 5 - To the Gallows

Sunlight broke through the cloud covered sky, casting a bright light down upon the choppy sea. 

The Syrtis creaked and groaned hypnotically as rough waves pushed the small cargo vessel along. 

Lily closed her eyes and sighed as the salty sea spray lightly kissed her face. 

After spending the last bit confined to the lower decks, she reveled in the feeling of the crisp breeze as it played through her hair.

The last few days had brought with it a violent storm which she had never seen the likes of. While she had previously experienced the odd summer storm or two on her orchard, nothing prepared her for the epic battle that waged between the great sea and the sky.

Such things they shouted at one another.

Images flashed in her mind that turned her stomach and chilled her blood. The sky had brought wounded winds from the south and battered the sea who answered in angry defiance. 

Lily had the distinct impression that this type of abuse was a common occurrence between the two. She wondered what her sweet little river back home would have made of the spectacle. 

The thought of home sent a fresh tear racing down her cheek. Lily had managed to cry more in the past week than she had in her entire life. Her cheeks even felt raw from the constant onslaught of emotion.  
Somewhere deep inside she marveled at the ability of the human body to lose so much water without shriveling up like a raisin.

Lily took a seat by Ser Delehan, a grandfatherly Templar who was busy whittling a small griffon from a block of wood. He had been one of the Templars that had found her.

“You really ought to go lay down, Henry. You’re useless at sea.” He glanced up briefly with a small smile. 

Ser Kinnan, a red haired man in his thirties was leaning over the railing, ridding himself of the last bits of breakfast from this morning. 

He looked over his shoulder with an ashen face, “It’ll pass…” he took a deep breath of air, “oh Maker’s mercy, let it pass.” 

Lily looked up sympathetically, “I could help with that, if you like.” 

Ser Kinnan held up a hand as he doubled over the railing once more. 

Ser Delehan smiled kindly, “That’s alright, my dear. It wouldn’t be a good idea to try your magic until you’ve been trained and tested by the Circle. Besides, Henry could stand to lose a few pounds.” 

Ser Kinnan wiped his mouth with a handkerchief and replied indignantly, “I’ll have you know, it’s the robes that are unflattering. I had to take Ser Feynian’s on account of mine being ripped. The man has a physique like a sack of potatoes.” 

Lily smiled as she saw Ser Kinnan tug at his robes and suck in his gut. She averted her eyes and covered her smile as he glanced over. He gripped the railing once more, “Ah, well, perhaps I’ll go lay down for a bit. Nothing good will come from all this rocking as it is; best to sleep it away if possible.”

Ser Delehan made a noncommittal grunt as he worked away at his griffon.

Lulled by the motion of the waves, Lily pressed her back into the bulkhead. She brought her mother’s small clawed amulet to her lips and stared ahead at nothing in particular, eyes glazing over as she replayed the events of the last week in her head for what had to be the thousandth time. 

A little more than a week ago she had arrived with her father at their stall in the bustling market district an hour before sunrise. She helped him unload the produce and display the pastries for customers. 

She was dressed in a lovely blue gown with a wide neckline and wore her long, thick hair unbound and uncovered. Lily mustered the courage to meet the eyes of the strangers who gazed at her. She saw shock in some faces, but she also caught some admiring looks which sent her heart fluttering in happiness. She felt an unusual surge in confidence as she smiled at patrons and was rewarded with smiles in return. Her heart felt ready to burst with happiness. Lily’s lightness of mood also affected her father who found his smile more often that morning. 

She was handing change to a woman who had just purchased a bottle of cider when the sound of raised voices caught her attention.

A group of young men were having difficulty unloading heavy casks of wine off a cart across the road. 

One of the ropes that had been bracing the tall barrels in place suddenly snapped and a young man at bottom of the cart was taken by surprise as an errant barrel caught him in the face, knocking him over.

There was a sickening crunching noise and the man’s scream shot straight to Lily’s core. 

Shouts of the men followed as they lifted the heavy, blood soaked cask off the youth. He was sobbing in terror in the mud and reached up towards the horrified group with a trembling blood soaked hand.

Lily went running towards him at once, her eyes never leaving him. 

The moment was surreal, she almost felt like she was watching herself move free of any independent thought.

Somewhere behind her she dimly heard her father cry out, “Oh Maker! Lily NO!! Come back, Maker please!!”

She held her hands up, both glowing with a greenish white light as she made her way over to the man. The left side of his face was caved in and ruined. He looked up at her, eyes wide with pain and terror. 

As she focused on him, her magic began to glow brightly. 

She heard a roar of shouts behind her but paid them no mind. She took his face gently in her hands with an intense focus as the blood and flesh and bone mended at an alarming rate. Once finished, she remained crouched over the man who touched his now restored face and stared at Lily in amazement. 

“Apostate! Apostate! Over here!!” she heard, finally comprehending the loud shouts and screams of the swelling crowd behind her. 

She whipped her head around in terror and crouched lower as she heard the loud clank of hurried metal footsteps behind her. 

The man, still in shock, grabbed her by the arm and cried out, “You saved me! Maker, you _saved_ me!” 

Lily shrieked in alarm as she felt a metal hand clamp down on her shoulder. She panicked and fumbled for her one chance at escape and found…nothing.

“I have her Ser! I’ve got her blocked!” 

It all happened so fast. 

Lily was spun around by two large men with the emblem of the order emblazoned upon their heavy armor. They towered over her. She was weeping in terror and could just make out her father’s anguished voice amidst the shouting and jeering of the crowd. “Oh my little girl! Let go of me!!” he wailed, “My little girl! Maker no, my little Lily!! Oh Maker! Ohhh!” 

Her vision was blurred by tears and she found that she was not able to make any sense of what the Templars were asking her. The world began to spin and quickly faded to black. The last thing she recalled before sinking into darkness was a warm and familiar voice whispering, “I am with you.” 

The next day, Lily awoke in a strange bed feeling disoriented. 

She rose up and spotted a beautiful gold sunburst tapestry hanging from the wall, next to two men in full plate armor. 

One of the men spoke up in a muffled voice, “She’s awake. I’ll go send for Mother Aoife.” 

A crushing weight settled on her chest as reality came crashing down. 

Over the next few days, she was questioned by different people. The chantry Mother was the first to speak to her. She was very gentle and had asked Lily about what happened at the market. She asked how long Lily could use magic, if she had told her parents, if she had ever used magic in front of anyone. Lily was familiar with this type of probing and answered carefully.

She was interviewed in a similar fashion by a man with the title Knight Commander. He was in his mid-fifties and possessed a forceful demeanor. He asked her directly to confirm if this was the first time she had used magic. Lily said it was the first time her magic had come unbidden and that she had never told her parents. He told Lily that he was investigating her father and that it would not go well for him if she lied. 

On the following day, the Knight Commander was accompanied by an older woman in long dark robes who called herself Katrina. She had a kind, but firm bearing. She began to question Lily and when the Knight Commander interjected, she drove him from the room. They reminded Lily of an old married couple. 

“Don’t mind Knight Commander Walsh, girl, he’s like that with everyone.”

Katrina’s sole interest was in testing Lily’s magic. 

She didn’t care about who knew what and when but rather what types of spells Lily could summon. Katrina spent the better part of the day gauging her ability in different areas of magic. Lily was not able to produce any flame or spark, but had been able to ward easily once taught. When Lily reproduced some of the healing spells that her spirit had taught her, Katrina could only stare at her in awe. 

“Absolutely remarkable.” The woman breathed out on more than one occasion. She had the distinct feeling that she had impressed the steely woman. 

As Katrina was about to leave, Lily’s thoughts once again turned to her father. She leveled a flat look at the young woman and said, “I can see plain as day that your parents knew about you child. No, don’t you dare lie to me. I’m not a fool.” 

Lily was only able to gape at the older woman in silence. Katrina’s expression softened a bit “I will do what I can to see they are not entangled in this anymore than necessary, but you should have come to us as soon as you were able to cast. They should have brought you to us.” She shook her head. “Now, if you will excuse me, I have to speak with the Knight Commander.

Later that evening she was informed that the decision had been made to send her to the Circle in Kirkwall. Lily accepted and hoped that her compliance might help her parents circumvent whatever fate awaited them. 

The shouts from the sailors brought Lily back to the present.

They were approaching Kirkwall. 

Lily could make out a stone city in the distance, but they were still too far away for her to see it in great detail.

“Ah, it won’t be long now. We will be there within a few hours.” Ser Delehan muttered, putting away his carving knife. “Come my dear, you should eat a little and wash up before we dock.” Ser Delehan placed a hand gently on her shoulder and guided her below.

Hours later, they disembarked and Lily got her first good look at the city. It was noisy, dirty and chaotic. She had never seen anything like it. She has been to the capital city in Markham and had visited Ansberg on occasion, but they were green, open, and living places. Kirkwall was all mud and dead stone with the occasional rotting tree or creep cluster.

When they finally reached the Gallows, Lily felt her steps grow heavy. She looked up, horrified by the giant stone statues in chains with stricken expressions. She stopped and stared. “People LIVE here,” she asked in disbelief. 

She couldn’t make out the expressions of the armored Templars, but there was no mistaking Ser Delehan’s sympathetic tone, “Aye they do, lass. It’s not so bad as it looks though; you’ll make friends soon enough.” 

The Gallows was utterly devoid of life. The stone here was dead. This was clearly a modified prison hold. 

She felt her heart beating wildly like a cornered animal, “Please! Please don’t make me stay here!” She looked at them, stricken, “Please. Whatever I did, I’m so sorry! I promise I won’t cast magic ever again…even if someone asked me to do it; I beg of you!” 

She was met with silence.

Lily turned at the sound of heavy steps behind her.

A severely handsome woman approached flanked by two Templars. Another woman was with them who had a sunburst tattoo on her forehead. 

Lily cried out when she saw her. There was something so wrong about the woman; it made the hairs on the back of her neck stand up. It was like seeing a person with no shadow. 

She was now being restrained by her Templars. 

The Templar looked Lily up and down and smiled almost cruelly, “So our little apostate has finally come to us safe and sound.”


	6. A Warm Welcome

Orsino marveled at how much Soran’s appearance had altered in just a little over a week. Fitted in immaculate new robes and aided with regular meals and frequent bathing; the boy looked barely recognizable. His bruises were fading and his hair was clean and brushed. He was still prone to sullen outbursts, but all things considered, he was fitting in better than expected. It was Orsino’s experience that children from the alienage often benefitted from the routine daily life and relative stability that the circle provided. 

“I was able to visit Hahren Reeba today.” 

Orsino had Soran's undivided attention. 

“She took me to the home that you shared with your mother.” Then more gently, “I am sorry for your loss.” 

The young boy looked away, sadness washing over his features. 

“The Hahren told me that she would be issuing the dwelling to new tenants next week and she allowed me to gather your belongings. There wasn’t much there, but I collected what I could.” 

A woman’s tattered shawl was neatly folded and laid atop a small wooden box. Orsino handed the items over to Soran, who clutched the box tightly to his chest. He quickly opened it and scanned the contents inside. Satisfied, he closed the box and pressed his cheek into the shawl. 

“Thank you.” He said almost too softly to hear; eyes flicking up towards the First Enchanter briefly before settling back down to a spot on the desk. 

Orsino smiled kindly, “You are most welcome. If there is anything else that I can do for you, I hope you will let me know.” 

Soran said nothing and continued to stare ahead, though his gazed softened.

There was a knock at the door. 

“Yes?” Orsino called. 

A little girl around Soran’s age, with a head full of dark curls, popped her head inside.

“First Enchanter, sir, I saw some Templars bring in a woman. I think she is an apostate. The Knight Commander is with her and she’s crying. I thought you should know.” 

“Thank you Jewel, you were right to come to me. If you’ll excuse me children, I have matters to attend to." Orsino rose from his desk, "Soran, you are free to go.” 

The boy’s eyes dropped to the little girl at the door. It was the same shemlen girl he had called ugly on his first day. She met his gaze and held it without flinching.

******  
The horrible woman in front of Lily was easily the most intimidating person she had ever encountered in her life. The Templar looked as though she were carved from granite. 

“I am Knight Commander Meredith," there was a razor sharp edge to the Knight Commander’s voice that Lily did not like, "Let me look at you, girl.”

A gloved hand caught her by the jaw with an iron like grip.

Meredith forced Lily's chin upward then gave a sharp shake, rattling her teeth. The Templar was determined to meet her eyes. She turned the young woman’s face to the left and then right. 

Meredith’s eyes narrowed and her mouth formed a hard line, “I see no evidence of possession; however, you are a risk to our community, and I don’t like risks. If you so much as set a toe out of line, you will end up like our friend Elsa here.” She jerked her chin in direction of the strange, wrong woman. 

Lily’s heart hammered in her chest and she began to panic, “What’s…what’s wrong with her?” The words came out in a pitiful whimper.

Meredith replied flatly, “She is what happens to mages who don’t behave themselves.” 

Lily yanked her chin free of Meredith’s grasp. She lowered her head; large tears splattering onto the stone floor at her feet. 

“Pardon me, Knight Commander, Sir, but this really is not necessary,” Ser Kinnan’s muffled voice rang out from behind.

Meredith snapped, “I’ll be the one who decides what is necessary for the safety of my Circle.” 

Lily heard footsteps approaching and a man’s voice call out with barely restrained fury, “I’ll thank you not to terrify my new apprentice, Meredith. How _dare_ you insert yourself into mage business? I should not have to remind you that it is my responsibility to greet and interview new members of the circle before you sink your claws into them.”

Lily beseeched the Great Mother for strength and prayed that her knees would not buckle as the two continued, “I felt that this situation warranted special precautions, Orsino. It is my duty to ensure -–“ 

The man broke in with an acid tone, “Ah you _felt_ did you? I suppose there is a first time for everything. How unfortunate then, that what you felt was the need to threaten an innocent woman.” 

Lily kept her eyes at everyone’s feet and saw the man in black robes approach her. She felt the tight grip of the Templars at her side release. It was replaced with a warm, supportive hand between her shoulders. She instinctively leaned in closer. 

“I will speak with you about this later Meredith, and I _will absolutely_ ; inform the Grand Cleric of your behavior, mark my words.”

There was a moment of strained silence and Lily desperately wanted to see Meredith’s reaction, but was far too afraid to look up. 

"Come with me, my dear.” 

The man was silent as he guided Lily down the hall. She could feel the anger in his long strides. Her legs were still shaking and she almost stumbled once, but the mage caught her by the elbow. They walked down a long corridor, turned and walked down another. Lily’s mind felt numb and she focused on the warmth and strength of the figure beside her, trying to draw it in for her own. 

Finally, they came to a well lit room with plush carpeting. The man gently led her to a chair where she took a seat. He closed door and pulled up a seat beside her. 

Lily continued to study the floor in silence for what seemed an eternity before the man spoke again, “I don’t know how to begin to apologize for the display you just witnessed. It is highly unusual for Meredith to set in on new apprentices like that. I know she thought she was being cautious, but..” 

Orsino’s words died on his lips as he saw the young woman draw in upon herself. She kept her eyes downcast, and her long, pale hair streamed down her face, completely obscuring her features. 

“Lily?” he said gently. He had a very pleasant and soothing voice, “Can you look at me?” 

She took a deep breath. It took every last bit of will she possessed to meet his eyes.

Orsino drew in his breath sharply when she looked at him. Her eyes were red and her face was streaked with tears, but even so, she was a singularly lovely woman. He began to understand why the Templar had written that she _‘appeared’_ to be human. Her beauty was otherworldly. It took him longer than he would have liked to organize his thoughts.

She was not yet familiar enough with men to understand his startled reaction and mistook it for one of displeasure; she quickly averted her gaze.

Her embarrassment almost immediately gave way to curiosity; however. “You’re an elf?” she asked, voice laced with surprise. Pale eyes darted up briefly and back down again.

This young woman had been ripped away from her family, condemned to live out her life in the Gallows, and just survived an encounter with the Knight Commander, but it was his _race_ of all things that shocked her.

_Humans really are too much sometimes._

Orsino blinked and reached up to touch a pointed ear. His eyes went wide, “Maker above, it seems I am! Why did no one tell me of this before?” His tone was playful and amusement danced in his green eyes. 

Lily blushed and stammered, “I didn’t mean - - it’s just…you …you’re just ...so tall!” 

She cringed inwardly at her awkwardness. It pained her to think how truly provincial she must sound to this impressive man. The truth was that she had never heard an elf speak with such authority before, especially not to another human. She had simply assumed he was human as well. She looked up again shyly. 

Still smiling, “Well, a funny thing happens to elves when we are fed on a regular basis.” 

Lily gave a little laugh.

Orsino continued to study her face intently, “Please allow me to welcome you to your new home, my dear. I am Orsino, the First Enchanter of our little Circle, and we have been anticipating your arrival.”

She replied in a soft voice, “Thank you sir.” 

She met his eyes once more to offer a small smile before dropping her gaze again. 

His chin length hair was swept back; it was black and shocked with silver. His large, expressive eyes held a kindness and intelligence within them that set her at ease. She thought him very handsome and could feel a blush creeping back into her cheeks. 

If Orsino noticed, he was far too well-mannered to mention it. 

"I will have you shown to your new quarters. You’ve had a difficult day, I imagine. Do you think we could speak in a day or two after you’ve settled in? I would like to know more about you.”

Lily nodded and felt her blush deepen. She kept her eyes downcast. 

"Yes sir,” she said, almost in a whisper.

*******  
That evening as Orsino was paying a visit to the Grand Cleric, Lily was getting acquainted with her new surroundings.

She was greeted tersely by a red haired mage of Dalish origin who grumbled her name, led her to the bath, and instructed her to undress. Lily began to unlace the front of her bodice, but stopped when the elven woman made no attempt to leave. 

The red head folded her arms and leaned against the wall, “Well? Get to it, girl. I don't want to spend the night here.” 

Lily felt a flash of annoyance at the invasion of privacy and asked if she intended to watch. The Dalish woman’s lips curled into a smile. “Oh aye, I do intend to watch,” just as quickly, her smile vanished and she continued with obvious irritation, “Lily, is it? You will have to get used to being watched. Say farewell to your modesty. You’re lucky Orsino requested that the Templars grant you privacy on your first night with us. I can assure you that I was not given such a courtesy.” 

After the quick bath was over, Hallasa took Lily to get fitted for robes.

A blonde seamstress named Alice shook her head as she took Lily's measurements, "Some of you apprentices are so _thin_. You look even more scrawny than an elf!" 

Hallasa and Lily exchanged annoyed looks with one another as Alice combed through heavy armoires filled with clothing to find something suitable for her to wear. 

Finding something proved more challenging that they anticipated. Robes for human women all but swallowed her whole and though the robes for elven woman were a better fit, they were short.

"Ah!” Alice pulled out a bright yellow robe from the back of an armoire, “This looks promising!”

Lily slipped it over her head and tugged the robe down over her hips, "Um...is it supposed to be this tight?" She had to wriggle her bum a bit to get it to settle into place. 

"That is an interesting look,” Hallasa muttered dryly, “I bet Finn would like it.”

Lily caught her reflection in a nearby mirror. The robe was so snug in the bust and hips that it bordered on indecent. 

Alice was exasperated, “I thought that would be the one too!”

They finally found a robe at the bottom of a chest that fit well enough but had a decidedly old fashioned cut. “This was definitely before my time,” Alice shook out faded green garment. 

Though old fashioned, the robe fit nicely. Glancing at herself in the mirror, Lily fancied that she finally looked like a proper apprentice. 

"Come with me." Hallasa gently tugged her by the elbow, "We'll stop by kitchen to get something to eat. Afterwards, you can retire to your room for the night.” 

Lily noted that the weariness in Hallasa’s tone. 

She had no appetite but nibbled on the plate of cheese and biscuits that was set before her. 

"I want to thank you for helping me today,” Lily offered. 

Hallasa blinked in surprise and softened her gaze when she failed to detect any sarcasm, “You’re...welcome. You’re certainly the most polite apprentice that I’ve had to settle in.” 

Despite her taciturn nature, Lily found the woman oddly refreshing, “I take it this is a regular duty for you?” 

She nodded, “More regular than I would like. Orsino does his very best to force me to interact with others.” 

Lily smiled at the her, “Is that truly such a terrible thing?” 

Hallasa replied flatly, “I have little tolerance for stupidity.” 

"But surely there is not so much stupidity in a circle of magi," Lily said, unable to keep the amusement from her voice. 

Hallasa nearly choked on her biscuit, “You would be surprised."

This prompted a giggle from Lily.

"Enough nonsense now," she said with a small smile, "Finish up so we can both get to bed; it has been a long day.”

Lily was in complete agreement. So much had happened during the day that it felt like decades, not hours, since she first set foot on Kirkwall soil.

By the time they reached her small room, Lily found that she was far too exhausted to ruminate on the events of the day and fell asleep almost as soon as her head hit her pillow. 

She never heard the scratching sound of the tiny wren as it alighted on the sill of her small window.


	7. Reassignment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hi all! I apologize if anyone has been waiting on an update. It's never my intention to let months pass between chapters, but this summer has been a busy one. The good news is that I have the next chapter mostly written. I just need to edit it until I am happy with it. The story will be picking up soon as well, so yay!

Orsino began his day unusually early. 

The air was close and quiet in the predawn hours. There were few lamps lit and even fewer people to be found in the Gallows courtyard, save for the odd guard on patrol here and there. A thick blanket of fog had rolled in from the sea and settled onto the city, lending an unpleasant dampness to the early morning.

Orsino’s steps echoed loudly in his ears as he made his way up to the Chantry. He was used to the climb, having made it frequently, but was not here to worship today. 

While it was true that some mages resented the Chantry, the vast majority remained practicing Andrastians. He was one such mage, though if he were being perfectly honest, he would admit that much of it was borne out of sentimentality rather than piety. 

A woman by the name of Eloise greeted him at the entrance. She served as the Grand Cleric’s personal assistant and wore that passive, vacant expression common to all Tranquil. 

“If you will kindly follow me, First Enchanter,” she intoned blandly,” the Grand Cleric awaits.” 

As she led him through the nave; he felt a nostalgic warmth stir within him. 

The air was perfumed with incense and brought with it memories of childhood. He recalled being awakened against his will with his older brother, Wilem, on several occasions by his very devout parents. The two of them would grumble on their march from the Alienage to the Chantry and sulk throughout the service with all the other elven children who had been forced to attend. The adults were ever peaceful in their prayer and contemplation, while sleepy children looked on with open resentment. 

Though elves and humans alike were served by the Chantry, the services were generally segregated, as humans preferred to worship amongst their own and made pains to avoid comingling as much as possible. As a result, elven Andrastians were unofficially consigned to the earliest services while their human counterparts slept in. He had hated waking up early, but found it far preferable to attending the human led services. His mother, Rose, was impervious to the disdainful looks and sneers, but he was sensitive to them and wished to avoid the humans as much as they did him, though, he noted with amusement, the human children appeared every bit as unhappy to be in attendance as his own kind did. 

The sound of the Tranquil gently knocking on a heavy wooden door brought him back to the present.

“Please come in,” a voice called from inside, as Eloise granted entry. 

“Ah, Orsino, thank you for meeting with me at this hour,” Elthina smiled warmly, “Please have do have a seat. I had tea made for us, so please help yourself.”

The Grand Cleric folded a letter and sealed it with wax. 

“Eloise, would you be so kind as to deliver this to the Knight Commander in two and three quarters of an hour?”

_That seems oddly precise_ , he mused as he poured the fragrant black tea. 

Eloise took the letter as requested and shut the door behind her. 

Elthina joined Orsino by the fire.

“Ah, thank you, my dear,” she accepted the proffered cup, “Can I offer you some sugar?”

Orsino shook his head, “No thank you, Grand Cleric.”

Elthina smiled at his formality as she stirred a spoonful of sugar into her tea, “After our meeting a few nights ago, I thought about what you had to say.” 

“Oh?” he asked with a raised brow as he took a sip. 

“Yes. I fear you are quite right about Meredith. Her behavior towards the new apprentice was both inappropriate and troubling,” she stared into her cup as she continued, “I was going to reprimand her immediately, but then reconsidered.”

Orsino did not say anything, only looked and waited for the Grand Cleric to continue. 

“A spirit healer in Kirkwall could do an unimaginable amount of good, but I’m sure you will agree that with the Knight Commander looming over the poor child, it is unlikely she will have a chance complete a successful Harrowing,” Elthina paused and frowned, “I feel certain that somehow…” she trailed off and shook her head, “I have decided to temporarily reassign her to Lothering.”

_Blessed be the Maker!_

He felt all the tension immediately leave his body and exhaled loudly, “Lothering? Isn’t that in Ferelden?” he could scarcely believe his luck.

Elthina nodded and added wryly, “I take it by your smile that you approve then?”

“I suppose Lothering will have to do,” he looked up innocently,” Are you sure she isn’t needed in say…Hossberg?” 

Elthina shook her head and sighed, “It is a pity you two do not get on better.” 

It took all of his willpower not to defend himself to the Grand Cleric. He was annoyed that he even felt the need to do so. It should be fairly obvious why they did not _get on better._

Instead he asked, “How long will this reassignment last?” 

“I can get you three months. Do you think this will be sufficient?”

Orisno muttered, “Three months… Lily will require round the clock study, but if she applies herself. We might just have a chance.” He set his tea aside and leaned forward; resting his elbows on his knees, mind already quickly at work. “She will need to master basic magical control, basic elemental, summoning…” he said, half to himself. 

Elthina placed her hands in her lap, “I trust you will have her ready when the time comes then?” 

Orsino sat up straight and nodded, “Indeed, I will do my best.” 

The Grand Cleric graced him with a motherly smile, “Excellent. Now my dear First Enchanter,” she said, rising from her seat and taking his hands in her own, “May I suggest that you return to your Circle now and ready yourself for the coming storm?” 

He took a deep breath and nodded.

“Would you like a blessing before you go?” she asked kindly.

“Yes please.” 

Back at the Circle, Orsino decided to put the nervous energy within him to use in the training yard. His workout had been punishing and he regretted it almost instantly once seated in his office.

_I may have overdone it a bit,_ he thought, wincing, as he massaged his calf muscle.

He attended to his administrative duties, mentally bracing for the confrontation that would undoubtedly take place today. 

It was a quarter past nine in the morning and he was halfway through a letter to First Enchanter Katrina when a furious Knight Commander Meredith burst through his office door. 

Orisno didn’t have to look up to feel the outrage rolling off of her as she towered in front of him; so attuned he was to her mannerisms. He could picture her sour expression clearly in his mind. 

He kept his face passive and continued his letter as though she was not there. If she could not muster the basic politeness to request entry, he did not have to acknowledge her presence until he felt inclined to do so. He knew that this constant battle of wills was counterproductive, yet the more Meredith pushed, the more he felt compelled to resist. 

For her part, Meredith stood still, arms crossed, glaring at the First Enchanter with a look that could curdle milk. The silence drew out between them, broken only by the scratching of his quill on parchment. The Knight Commander cleared her throat loudly. 

“Why, Knight Commander, I didn’t hear you come in,” Orsino drawled, eyes never leaving his missive, “To what do I owe the pleasure of your company?” 

Meredith said nothing for a long while. Instead she strolled across the room to an elaborately carved table and poured herself a drink. 

_By all means, help yourself_ , Orsino thought with irritation as Meredith poured a snifter full of West Hill Brandy.

_We should really start having these meetings in her office._

“You’re a marginally intelligent man, Orsino, so I think you can guess why I’m here,” she said, inhaling the brandy before taking a sip.

Without looking up, Orsino dipped the quill in the inkwell before returning to his letter, “I’m afraid you’ll enlighten me.”

Meredith’s eyes passed over the room as she took another sip. “So you wish to play games then? You -” something on the wall caught her attention, “What is this?” she snapped.

Orsino looked up briefly and followed Meredith’s gaze to an elaborately framed portrait. He bent his head quickly back down, letting his chin length hair fall into his face and obscuring a smile that ghosted at the corners of his lips, “Ah, do you like my new masterpiece? My mages are blessed with exceptional gifts, would you not agree? If magic doesn't work out for Lita, at least she will have art to fall back on.”

Meredith refused to take the bait. She merely scoffed and rolled her eyes, “I do believe you are the pettiest man in all of Thedas, Orsino.” 

He tossed his hair back, smile widening as he fanned the letter in the air to dry, “I try.” 

_Maker’s breath, this woman is grating._

Just as quickly, his smile vanished, “What do you want?”

The Knight Commander finished the last of the brandy and set the glass down on his desk with a loud thud. She faced him, leaning forward, with both hands splayed in front of her. For his part, Orsino met her stare impassively, annoyed by her attempt at intimidation. 

“Grand Cleric Elthina and I had a chat just now.” 

She appeared to be waiting for a reaction.

“How wonderful for you,” Orsino replied flatly, “Is there some reason you feel the need to share this?”

Meredith’s mouth tightened, “ _Don’t_ toy with me Orsino! We both know this is your doing. I’ve been called away on assignment to Lothering for Maker knows how long. _Lothering!_ ” she stood up, placing a hand on her hip, “But I suppose this is all just an amazing coincidence and that you didn’t lean on Elthina at all?” 

Orsino placed his letter to the side and settled back in his chair, steepling his fingers together. Where Meredith was furious and impassioned, he remained calm and collected. This visibly galled her, much to his delight. 

_Alright, perhaps I am a_ touch _petty._

“Meredith, I don’t have the faintest idea what you are talking about. Don’t you think you’re being a bit paranoid?”

“Ah. So this isn’t payback for threatening that new little abomination in waiting a few days earlier?” she asked archly, “If I had my way, she would have been made Tranquil on the spot and to think that you would risk the safety of _my_ Circle over some ridiculous squabble - -“

“ _Our_ Circle,” Orisno was beginning to lose patience, “and I had nothing to do with this. I’ve also been given glowing reports from Enrick and Hallasa regarding Lily’s progress thus far. She deserves a chance and if the Grand Cleric sees fit to send you away, we must trust in her wisdom.” 

Meredith squared her shoulders and lifted her chin, “Knight Captain Tavish will be in charge while I am away,” she paused and gave Orsino a pointed look, “She will be put to the Harrowing the _moment_ I return, is that understood? I know you think me cruel, Orsino, but she is a risk to us _all_ at the moment. It only takes one mistake, just one, and we all pay the price.” 

“We will be ready for you when you return,” Orsino replied coolly.

A slight tightening of her jaw was the only reply he received before she stormed out.

Once he was certain that she was gone, Orisno leaned his head back and closed his eyes, exhaling slowly and rubbing his face with both hands. His eyes fluttered open, and he stared at the stone ceiling for a few minutes. 

He felt completely drained after the confrontation and it was not yet mid-day. 

He made up his mind to speak to Lily after his advanced elemental class. He had given her some space for the first few days, but was eager to talk to the young woman. Also, she needed to start an intensive study regimen immediately, so he could not afford to waste any more time. 

She was the first apostate he was responsible for since becoming First Enchanter and he was determined not to fail her.


End file.
